Summer at the Vale
by Laren Goldstar
Summary: Harry finds himself whisked away to a remote house for the summer, where he's all alone to mope about Sirius - or is he? There's a random girl with him; follow Harry as he learns all about the mystery that is the female race
1. Dumbledore is a Nutter

Disclaimer: I own Emily and the plot. Everything else belongs to J.K.R.

A/N: Hey hey you all. I haven't stopped writing Chem. for Werewolves (if you haven't read it go check it out! It's a Remus/OC) but I'm suffering from _horrible_ writer's block on that one and at best I'm writing a paragraph a day on it. So, in the mean time, you get this lovely little plot bunny that was just dying to be put on paper. Hope you enjoy!

**1. Dumbledore is a NUTTER!!!**

"I'm going to _what_!!??" asked Harry, utterly bewildered. Earlier that week there'd been another dementor attack on Privet Drive, ensuring his swift removal to Hogwarts. He'd assumed that he'd be returning to Grimmauld Place, and despite the horrible memories it now held for him, he was looking forward to some familiar faces.

For some reason, though, he could have just sworn that Professor Dumbledore had just informed him that he would not be returning to the headquarters at all. In fact, he was going to be living in some randomly isolated house with a muggle girl under very heavy wards. And all this without any magic!

"Of course, Miss Gould – that's the young lady you'll be sharing the house with – is a muggle, and you are quite used to a muggle lifestyle, so the two of you should have no problem whatsoever!"

Harry looked blankly at his rather cheerful looking headmaster. "You'll be quite safe, Harry, but time is really of the essence – the sooner we get you there, the better. There's food there – although you'll be able to pop out to get more and whatever else you need in a couple of days – and it is a bit of a mess, I'm afraid, so there are also cleaning supplies. Now let's get moving, Miss Gould will be waiting!"

And with this Dumbledore handed Harry his shrunken trunk. Harry took it, a huge sense of foreboding overcome by the familiar tug under his navel. _Damn him!!_ Harry thought. _He made my trunk into a port-key so I couldn't say a thing – annoying old man!_ Suddenly, however, he was standing in the middle of a dusty old room, facing a blackened fireplace. A rustling sound from behind prompted him to whip out his wand and point it at the person behind him.

"Whoa…sorry, d-didn't mean to sneak up on you or anything…um…yeah…I guess you're Harry?"

Standing in front of Harry was not, as he had momentarily thought, a big, menacing death eater, but a curly haired girl approximately his age. She was slim and naturally tanned, contrasting with her blond tipped curls. She looked rather nervously at Harry's wand pointed at her, and had taken a step back. Harry belatedly remembered that she was a muggle.

"Er, yes," Harry replied, lowering his wand but not yet putting it away. "And you're…" he realised that Dumbledore had not told him her full name. "Uh, Miss Gould." He finished lamely. The girl visibly relaxed and smiled shyly.

"Yeah, I'm Emily." She told him. "Emily Gould."

There was an awkward silence following this; neither of the teenagers seemed to have any idea what to do next.

"Uh," Harry said. "Uh, nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand stiffly, feeling incredibly stupid. Fortunately, Emily didn't seem to care. If the blush on her face was any indication, she felt just as out of place.

"N-n-nice to meet you too." She stammered, shaking his hand quickly and then snatching her hand back.

"Well," she said after another few seconds of silence, tucking a stray frizzy curl behind her ear. "This place is – uh – well, a mess, so I guess we should spend some time today fixing up the essentials, bedrooms, bath, kitchen, you know."

Harry stared at her for a second then nodded belatedly as he processed what she said. "Oh yeah," he replied, for lack of anything else better to say. "Have you – have you had a look round, yet?"

Emily fidgeted with her jean skirt, and Harry momentarily thought that she looked exactly how he felt. "It's actually not that bad – I mean, once it's clean, it'll be a nice place. So, uh,"

She moved past Harry towards a doorway behind him. Looking around, he realized that they were in some sort of living room – there were old sofas covered with sheets, as well as a small fireplace.

"This is the living room," Emily informed him, gesturing round her. "and over there," she pointed to a small enclave beyond an open door visible through which were dusty, empty old bookshelves. "that's a sort of mini library, I guess. Out here is the hallway – there's the front door to our right, and a tiny sunroom and small dining room – it's all tiny, really."

Harry glanced into the two rooms; Emily was spot on when she said they were tiny. _But_, he mused, _it's just her and me here – it should be all right…but what if we hate each other? There's nowhere to go!_

"And here's the kitchen" Emily continued. Harry followed her into a dirty room, the dust illuminated by the sunlight pouring in through a window over a counter. It wasn't, he noted, as small as the tiny dining room, and he realised that this was probably where they'd be spending a lot of time, along with the living room, which wasn't too small either. In the centre of the kitchen stood a dusty table, with a couple of broken chairs around it. Just beyond it was a doorway, flanked by an open cupboard door that was, like most of the others in the room, broken. Emily stood in front of him, hands on hips as she surveyed the room.

"Are those the stairs?" Harry asked, pointing to the steps visible through the dark doorway.

"Oh, yeah." Emily turned around and walked over to the doorway, reaching inside and flicking a light switch. "Yup, upstairs, this way!"

Harry started as the lights came on. "Whoa…" he began, confused. "The lights…"

"Sorry, did – Mr. Uh… Dumbledore not mention? The house has water, electricity, everything, it's just really, really…"

"Dirty?" Harry supplied helpfully, stepping over some broken glass to follow her up the stairs. The two of them crunched up the steep, narrow steps into a dimly lit hallway. On their right were two doors, much the same as to their left. The very end of the hallway was dark, and a series of steps leading up to a trapdoor could just be seen in the gloom.

"Okay, so, that's just a closet…" Emily opened the first door on their right, then moved to the first on their left. "And this is the bathroom."

Emily opened the door and Harry walked into the bathroom past her – or more accurately, squeezed past her through the extremely narrow doorway. It, like everywhere else in the house, had broken glass, dirt, and dust all over everything. There was a toilet, bathtub, and small sink, but…

"No shower, it sucks, but the water works." Emily said resignedly, pointing to a puddle of gritty looking brown water in the sink. "But I guess we need to leave it running for a bit to clear out the pipes."

Harry scrunched up his nose in disgust and left the bathroom – it smelled awful. The next door on their left was a bedroom, not to large, but considerably bigger than his room at the Dursleys. Just opposite it was another room, a mirror image, but sunnier.

"Er," Harry began, unsure of how to ask her which room she wanted. He had some vague idea that girls had very strong opinions about these things, and thought that they'd better get off to a good start as they'd be living across the hall from each other all summer.

"Er," he tried again. "So, uh, which…uh, room do you want?"

Emily looked back at him, unsure, peering back and forth into the two rooms, casting longing glances at the sunny room while pretending to be interested in the darker room.

"Oh, I don't know" she stammered, playing with her hair – Harry was starting to get the idea that she did this when she was nervous. "Why don't you pick? They're all the same to me…" She trailed off, uncertainty and awkwardness written all over her face. Harry gulped wildly and looked into the rooms. It was obvious even to him that she wanted the sunny room, but he knew that he'd also like that room. Somehow, it just seemed bigger. Suddenly he realized that Hedwig would much prefer the darker room, and that it was closer to the bathroom.

"Er," Harry began, hoping that he hadn't misinterpreted her glances. "Well, I know girls always take forever in the bathroom, so, I'll take the one on the left – I can get in before you do." Seeing the indignant look on Emily's face made him wonder if he should have just said something about Hedwig. He grinned apologetically at her, and was inwardly relieved when Emily's face brightened.

"All right then," Emily said, sounding much happier. "Well, I guess we should leave our stuff downstairs until we cleaned up here. Oh – I almost forgot – that's the attic. I haven't looked up there yet."

"Well, I'll go, then." Harry volunteered, walking out to the stairs hoping that he looked much braver than he felt. Peering into the dim gloom of the hall, he could see why Emily hadn't gone up there to look around yet. Putting one hand on the stairs, he looked up and slowly began to climb. Emily was at the bottom looking up after him when he pushed open the trapdoor and sunlight flooded through, temporarily blinding him. Cautiously opening his eyes after a few seconds, he saw that the attic was actually a big room with huge slanted windows.

"Hey Emily, look at this!" Harry called back down, and she quickly came up the stairs after him, taking Harry's hand so he could pull her through the trapdoor.

"Oh, now this _is_ nice." Emily said, going over to one of the windows and staring out at the view of the forest beyond. Harry began to walk over towards her but found his progress impeded by a big box lying on the ground – and then noticed that is was one of many all around the attic.

"Weird," he said out loud, catching Emily's attention.

"What?" she asked, without turning around.

"Well, this attic doesn't look like a storage room – not with all those windows."

Emily turned around and gave a small gasp upon finally seeing all the boxes. She walked to where Harry was standing and looked with him at the box, her eyes lighting up.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed, obviously getting rather excited. Harry didn't know whether to be worried or excited with her. "Oh, I wonder what's in all those, maybe there's something interesting!"

Harry was slightly less enthusiastic – the whole place seemed a bit too creepy for the contents of the boxes to be harmless. Emily, however, was clearly not thinking along those lines, as by the time he looked down again, she had already opened the box at their feet and was leafing through an old book.

"Well, there's nothing except old books in here. What about this one?"

This time, however, Harry was ready for her, and caught her wrist just before she opened it. "NO!" he exclaimed, roughly pulling her back. Emily winced in pain as he jerked her away, but was too shocked to cry out. She stared at him in disbelief, her navy eyes wide.

"Uh…" she said, uncertain and more than a little miffed.

Harry, unnerved by her deep blue stare, quickly let go of her arm and pulled out his wand. "Sorry," he said, cheeks red with embarrassment. "But there could be something dangerous in one of them, you know, something magical" he tagged the last part on as an afterthought, belatedly remembering that she was a muggle. His embarrassment grew as he realized that she probably thought he was a paranoid maniac now.

Emily blinked a few times, then, much to his surprise, looked rather sheepish.

"Oh, right." She said, her voice small. Her eyes seemed to become fixed on a spot on the floor and Harry felt even worse. "Sorry – I don't really know anything about – well – magic, and stuff."

"Oh – it's – it's okay, but…you know…just to be safe." Harry gave her a silly half smile, trying to be nice.

"Yeah," Emily said, still sounding like a chastised child. "Yeah, I know."

The awkward silence that they were getting to know so well reigned once more until Emily piped up, her voice shy but no longer embarrassed.

"You know what? This house probably belonged to…non magical people, like me, and seeing as the first box seemed to be alright, I mean…"

Harry had to admit her train of though was in all likelihood correct. "I suppose," he said out loud, striding over to the first box and thoroughly examining its contents. "Well," he said at last. "Yeah, I guess, okay, let's open them."

Very soon the room was ensconced in a flurry of dust and both teens were sneezing away as they rifled through the contents of the boxes. It seemed as if the previous owners had packed up all of their household items neatly away and left them up here, were, unlike the rest of the house, they had lain undisturbed. Soon they were hanging up sheets and bedding to air out, taking out stacks of dishes and cutlery, and occasionally stumbling along the odd artefact that really had no use but interested them anyway. Much to their delight, most of the useful items only needed airing or a light cleaning before being as good as new.

Tramping back downstairs, they soon began to work on their respective rooms. Harry had just finished sweeping away the last of the dust and the broken glass and looked around his now clean new room with a critical eye. It wasn't bad, he decided, looking at the double bed – he would enjoy that – along the back wall, and the small desk to its right in front of him. The closet to his immediate right was bigger than his old one at the Dursleys, but that really didn't matter, as he didn't have that many clothes to begin with. He suddenly heard a loud beating sound coming from Emily's room, and decided to go over and see if she was finished yet.

Knocking lightly on the door, he heard an out of breath "Come in!" and went inside. Emily was standing in the middle of her room, on her empty bed frame, which, unlike the one in Harry's room, now looked polished, beating the dust out of her mattress.

"Sorry!" she said over the thumps. "I just can't sleep on this with all the dust, you know? Have you done yours already?"

Harry, however, didn't answer. Emily hadn't swept her floor yet, but it looked as if that was only because she was getting the dust out of the rest of the room first. Her bed, desk, and closet looked well cleaned and Harry saw that she'd brought down a rug from the attic as well as some bedding and curtains.

"Harry?" Emily asked, stopping her abuse of the mattress and replacing it on the bed. Harry snapped out of his stupor upon hearing his name called again. "Harry – did you finish already?" she asked, sounding impressed.

"Uh, no," Harry said hurriedly. "I was – just taking a breather, you know. Do you – uh – mind if I borrow that polish?"

"Oh, go ahead," Emily said, starting to make her bed. "I just need to do the floor in here, then I think I'll start on the bathroom. I would have brought down some sheets and stuff for you," she added shyly. "But I don't know what you like, so it's all upstairs. Hmm. I wish I could clean these window from the outside."

Harry quickly excused himself and fairly ran across the hall into his room. Looking at it after having experienced Emily's room, he now saw dirt everywhere. Sighing, he took his mattress of the bed and began to beat it. This was going to be a long day.

A/N: If you like it or if you don't – review and let me know!! (And should I bother continuing this?) Thanks!

-Laren.


	2. Girls: The Unknown Entity

Disclaimer: Yes, I'm secretly making billions of dollars off of my silly little story. No really, do you honestly think I own any of this (besides Emily and my plot)? No, it all belongs to J.K.R.

A/N: Hey, you guys like it! Well, at least, I gave you little enough information that you actually want to know what on earth this is all about. Hope this chap answers your questions!

**Chapter 2**: _GIRLS: The Unknown Entity_

Harry looked up from the kitchen floor he'd been acquainting himself with to see Emily standing at the foot of the stairs, hair pulled back in a messy bun, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily as she looked at the kitchen.

            "Hi." Harry said, pausing his scrubbing to talk to her. "How's the bathroom coming?" he asked.

            "Oh, it's finished." Emily replied, plonking herself down on a clean spot of floor. "I don't know about you, but I'm absolutely ready to drop dead on the spot. Feel like taking a break? When it's over we can finish up in here together."

            Harry thought that this was an excellent suggestion and so promptly discarded his rags in favour of the bottle of water Emily had pulled out of a bag sitting in one corner of the room.

            "Is that all the food and stuff?" he asked, scrambling over to look inside. Emily moved over so that Harry could get a better view.

            "Yeah – and it's still cool! How – is this some kind of – uh…magic?" she looked hesitantly at him.

            "Well," Harry began, unsure of what Emily knew of the wizarding world, and how much she was supposed to know. _On second thoughts, _he told himself _she'll be living with a wizard all summer, she's bound to find out something. Might as well tell her now._

            "Yeah, it is." Harry said, grinning at the excited expression on Emily's face. The look in her eyes was identical to the one Mr. Weasley wore when he had discovered a new tidbit of information about muggles. "It's probably a cooling charm – probably made to last for a day or so."

            "So we'd better clean out the fridge and get it working next, then." Emily said, rifling through the bag again. "And it's not even cool inside here – it's just the food! Amazing, really."

            She turned to Harry again, her look questioning. "So, you go to this school for magic, right? What was it called again, Hog…Hogs…"

            "Hogwarts." Harry supplied. "Yep, that's my school. I'm going into sixth year in September."

            "Cool," Emily said, nodding. "It's crazy – you have a whole world that people like me have no idea about. I've probably walked by a wizard on the street and had absolutely no idea."

            "Yeah," Harry said, for lack of anything else to say. Suddenly he found himself curious as to what on earth _she_ was doing there that summer.

            "Er," he began. "So, uh, why, are, um, you here this summer? I mean – no offence, but – you're not a witch or anything."

            "Oh – yes, right – I know it's strange – well, as Mr. Dumbledore explained it to me…"

            _Figures,_ Harry thought. _It was Dumbledore who ordered her up here with me – to keep an eye on me? No, he'd have sent an adult for that…_

            "Well, you of course know how there are some not so good wizards and stuff out there?"

            Harry snorted. Yes, he knew, all right. "Yeah, I know." Harry said.

            "I'm  - oh  - what do you call it again – telekinetic – and somehow these 'bad guys' got wind of this and so Mr. Dumbledore wanted me to stay safe or something. I don't know – I'm still more than a little bit confused over the whole thing. I mean, I'm still hung up over being able to do weird things – my mind hasn't even got to the fact that there is such a thing as magic, let alone a whole magic society!"

            She glanced at Harry, her cheeks red as she fiddled with a loose curl. "Sorry," she said. "I'm still a bit overwhelmed."

            "No-no problem." Harry said, completely at a loss as to what to do next. If he was lucky she'd get over her confusion and they could just get back to cleaning. _Or,_ he inwardly shuddered. _She'd start to bawl and then what do I do? The last time a girl started crying on me was with Cho – oh – not good. Not good at all._

            Much to Harry's great relief, Emily did not start crying, but merely shook her head in frustration a couple of times before sitting up straight and sighing. "Oh well. It has its advantages, I guess."

            "What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously.

            "Do really think I could have finished my room that fast? With all that junk and stuff lying everywhere?" Emily looked mischievously at him, her eyes dancing. Harry was momentarily taken aback, then pointed a finger at her accusingly.

            "And there I was thinking that you were using some kind of 'girl' power to get it all done so fast!" he grinned at her, but Emily narrowed her eyes.

            "What? You think that girls are just made for cleaning or something?" her tone was light, but Harry saw the dark look in her eyes and very hastily backtracked.

            "No – I mean – you do seem to be better at it – I just thought you'd done it all really fast, that's all."

            Emily looked at him suspiciously for a few seconds, then seemed to brush it off. "No, I did my 'weird stuff' again. Can you…" she turned to him eagerly. "Can you do magic here? I mean, could you – uh,  show me some?"

            Harry, feeling all too grateful to the powers above that she was not crying or angry with him, was just about to pull out his wand and do a spell when he remembered that he couldn't.

            "Sorry," he said apologetically. "But we're not allowed to do magic outside of school – at least, not until we're of age."

            Emily looked disappointed, then frowned. "So – if you don't mind me asking – how old are you?"

            "I'll be sixteen at the end of the month." Harry said, dread creeping up on him unawares. He suddenly became very conscious that with the current situation in the wizarding world, he'd be very lucky to see that birthday, let alone come of age.

            "Oh." Emily said, but not saying anymore, as if she could sense Harry's dark mood. For a while, the only sound was that of the swish of water in their bottles as they drank, resting from the activity of that morning. Suddenly Emily put her bottle down, its contents drained.

            "Why don't we finish up in here, then? I'll start cleaning out the fridge and oven and I guess you can continue with the floor."

            Harry nodded, and soon the two were back at work, the silence occasionally punctuated by one or the other's request for some cleaning supply or another. Harry found himself enjoying the fact that Emily left him alone with his thoughts. The hard work was keeping his mind off of the events at the Ministry, and in the monotony he was surprised to find his mood lifting. After a while, he became aware of the fact that Emily had left and returned, this time with a small silver box attached to her hip leading up to two black circles seemingly nestled in her ears. He stared curiously for a moment, then realized that it was much like one of those portable cd players he'd seen Dudley with at the beginning of the summer. Emily straightened up for a moment, stretching her arms out above her head, and for a second, Harry could hear music coming from her direction.

            Suddenly Emily stiffened, as if she realized that Harry was watching, and turned around, a puzzled expression on her face. "Hi." She said cautiously. "You - uh - finished?"

            Startled out of his reverie, Harry blinked quickly. "Er – no – almost." He said. "Well, actually, the floor's done, I'm just cleaning up the table and stuff." He gestured towards the half polished table and the now fixed stools as if to prove that he wasn't lying.

Emily looked amused. "I believe you." She said, laughter in her voice, and Harry felt slightly offended.

"I was actually just wondering," he began. "What is – uh that thing …there?" he pointed to the silver box, which Emily looked down at as well.

"Oh, you mean my minidisc player? It just plays music – actually, I have a discman upstairs if you want to listen to something. I can't guarantee that you'll actually like my music, but if you want to listen to something…" she trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed now.

Harry didn't really care whether or not he had any music to listen to, but thought that he'd better be polite and try the 'discman' out anyway. He told Emily yes, upon which she disappeared up the stairs to her room, coming back down with a bigger object that Harry recognized as being like the cd player Dudley had carried around with him. Soon Emily had him all hooked up to it and he was rifling through the cd's that she'd laid out for him to choose from.

"Er," he began, not wanting to sound rude as he looked through  _Piano Classics Volume 1_ and _Schubert and Schumann_ and _Love Songs for the Flute_. Emily pulled a speaker out of her ear and came over. When she saw what he was looking through she flushed and stammered that she'd given him the wrong ones. Going back upstairs, she soon returned with a whole bunch of different cd's.

"These are movie soundtracks," she informed him. "So there are a variety of songs. Here – try this one." She handed him a cd that was labelled as being the soundtrack to the movie 'The Matrix' and Harry was soon listening to it as he finished up the cleaning.

He found himself quite immersed in the music and was therefore surprised to look up when it finished to find the sun casting long shadows into the room where now only he was standing. Looking around, he was pleased to see that it was now clean, the food put away into the fridge and various dishes and cutlery from the attic put away into the cupboards and drawers. He could even see his reflection in the black tile floor and felt a swell of accomplishment as he surveyed his work. Feeling hungry, he gathered up the discman and went upstairs to take it to Emily's room. He knocked on her door once, then twice. Still hearing no response after a third knock, he turned the doorknob, slowly opening the door so as to alert her if she was inside the room.

Emily, however, was not in her room, and so he slipped inside and quickly laid the discman on her bed. As he turned to leave, he heard another door opening outside and suddenly Emily appeared in the doorway, her hair wet, wrapped in a big blue bathrobe. Harry started guiltily, unable to do anything but stare at her now very flushed face.

"Uh, Harry – what…are you doing in my room?" Emily asked slowly, attempting to pull her bathrobe tighter around her despite the fact that it covered everything from her neck to her ankles within its big, fluffy folds.

Harry stammered incoherently for a full five minutes before finally managing to squeak out that he was returning her discman. Not caring whether or not she had understood him, he fled to the safety of his own room, shutting the door firmly behind him and collapsed to the ground, taking huge, gasping breaths. _Calm down, Harry._ He told himself. _Nothing happened – you were in her room to return her discman and she happened to be coming out of the bath – nothing – bath – was she wearing anything beneath that - No! Can't go there!!_

Harry rubbed his eyes vigorously, attempting to banish _that_ particular train of thought from his head. He had to live with this girl all summer – at least, that's what Dumbledore had told him. All he had to do was to make it through the next 8 weeks – _8 weeks!!!_ Harry groaned as he got up, wondering how on earth he was supposed do it. Emily seemed nice enough – around his age, fairly intelligent, and she definitely wasn't one of those girls who complained about any sort of work. _But still,_ Harry complained to himself _It's just me and her! I don't know anything about living with girls – and not all by myself! Where's Ron when I need him…_

Harry walked over to his bed, plopping down onto the red patchwork covers he'd pulled out one of the boxes in the attic earlier that day, burying his face in the pillow in frustration. Suddenly he heard a knock on the door, followed by Emily's voice shyly asking if she could come in.

"S-sure." Harry stammered, wondering what on earth had possessed her to come into his room after the fiasco of moments before. _No, Potter!_ He firmly told himself as she opened the door. _It was just a little bit of bad timing, no big deal. _

"Hi," he said uncertainly, trying not to look at her, but failing miserably. However, she was quite harmlessly dressed in a pair of comfy looking pyjama pants and a huge sweater. Her hair, still wet, was tied up on top of her head in a high ponytail which looked quite in danger of falling off to one side, but Harry knew that the whole ensemble was nothing dangerous to him at all, and so sat up on his bed, feeling considerably more cheerful.

Emily seemed momentarily taken aback by Hedwig's presence in one corner of the room, where Harry had promptly installed her after cleaning up his room. Belatedly he realized that she'd never seen Hedwig beforehand. Emily, however, seemed to recover and, by the look on her face, simply accept it as some weird 'magic' thing before Harry could introduce them.

"Hi." Emily responded, tilting her head to one side. "Uh – do you mind…" she gestured towards his chair, and Harry nodded his assent.

"So," Emily began after a few seconds of their trademark awkward silence – which, now that Harry thought about it, didn't seem so bad anymore. He was starting to get used to it. "I guess that we need to…well…have some…I dunno, rules, in place?"

Harry nodded vigorously, thinking that that was _exactly_ what they needed. "Yes," he said, agreeing with her. "We don't have to worry too much about the bathroom – it has a lock on it."

Emily smiled, looking very much relieved that her idea was being so very well received. "Yeah, and I'll keep the majority of my girl stuff out of there so…"

"Oh, that's okay," Harry interrupted her. "I don't mind, really."

Emily went rather red and began to fiddle with her wet curls as she stammered out that _she_ did mind about certain things. Harry looked at her blankly for a moment before understanding dawned and he hurriedly assured her that he knew what she meant, his own face now a very deep shade of red.

"W-we-well," Emily continued, managing to regain her composure. "About our rooms – look, it was no big deal that you were in mine just now" she quickly interjected as Harry began to apologize profusely. "I mean, like, as long as we knock first, and wait until someone says come in or something."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But – what – can you hear me knocking if you have your…headphone thingies in?"

Emily looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. "If you knock really loudly, I should hear you. Other than that, just open the door really really slowly. Same goes for you, I guess?"

Harry looked confused. "I don't have a discman." He told her, but Emily shrugged it off.

"You're welcome to use mine, you know – I don't need two. I just didn't want to throw away something I'd paid good money for."

Harry told her that it would be very nice of her indeed to let him use it, and Emily told him that she'd even bring it over after they'd finished talking. Soon they were laughing about who was going to cook, and so forth, and eventually came to the conclusion that they'd simply just share all the work that needed to be done. Harry suddenly felt grateful to the Dursleys that he'd had to cook for them when he saw Emily's look of awe upon being informed of his culinary skills. For some reason, he felt quite happy as she complimented him on all the cleaning he'd done, and put it down to the fact that the Dursleys never commented on the work he'd done for them except to berate him about it.

After they'd worked out the majority of their 'rules', Emily began to yawn rather uncontrollably, and said that she'd better be getting to bed. "Here," she told Harry, handing him the discman that she'd retrieved from her room, as well as the cd he'd been listening to earlier. "Have a good night, then."

" 'Night" Harry replied, feeling a yawn threatening to overtake him. He heard Emily go into her room and soon saw the light under her door go out. His body aching for bed, he walked towards the bathroom to brush his teeth before going to bed. As soon as he opened the door, however, a strong smell of lavender overcame him and he momentarily ducked out of the room to get some air.

Still coughing slightly, he waved the door back and forth a bit to clear the air, and soon it wasn't quite so bad. His cheerful mood from their successful conversation earlier quickly dissipated as he wiped the condensation off the mirror so he could actually use it. Curious about her 'girl stuff', he peeked into the cupboard over the toilet to see what Emily had put in there. He was much relieved to find that all she'd placed inside were things like toothpaste, soap – essentials, he noted. A quick survey of the bathtub, however, told a different story – 'Spa Time Lavender Bath Oil', 'Spa Time Lavender Shower Gel'- _that's useless now_, Harry thought, _we don't have a shower, _'Essence Herbale Shampoo' 'Essence Herbale Conditioner' and a puffy purple looking thing that was hanging off the tap.

Quickly finishing his teeth and exiting the room, he stretched out on his surprisingly comfortable bed with a sigh of contentment. Suddenly he sat up, sniffed the air slightly, finding that he could still smell the lavender. Slowly he lifted his shirt to his nose and took a cautionary sniff. Harry groaned. _I smell like a girl!!!_ He reached over and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write.

"_Dear Ron, you'll never guess what has happened to me now…"_

A/N:  So, if you think it's stupid, or you think it's great (hopefully the latter but I'm not holding my breath) please review and let me know! -Laren


	3. A Taste of Pineapple

Disclaimer: Emily is mine. Summervale is mine. Mr. H. Potter and anything else you recognize is sadly, not mine – it's all J.K's.

A/N: Thanks for reviewing – here's another chapter for you to enjoy! (Hopefully!)

**Chapter 3: A Taste of Pineapple**

            Harry yawned widely as he thumped down the narrow stairs of his new accommodation. He'd had a fairly good night's sleep, thanks to all the physical work he'd done the day before. Such a deep sleep had taken him that he hadn't dreamt a single thing all night.

            Emily was already up, sitting at the small table with an almost empty bowl of cereal, seemingly absorbed in a rather lengthy looking book in front of her. Harry didn't want to disturb her – she appeared to be wholly engrossed in her 'Anna Karenina', but Emily looked up at him as he came down the last step and smiled, pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face.

            "Hey," she grinned at him. "Sleep well?"

            "Oh, yeah," Harry replied, stretching out the kinks in his body to cover for his embarrassment at still being in the old t-shirt and pants that he'd obviously slept in. He hadn't expected Emily to be awake yet, let alone downstairs in an old but clean tank top and rather small shorts. "I think it was all the cleaning we did."

            "Umhm," Emily agreed, finishing her cereal. "It knocked me out, too." 

            Just as she got up and headed for the fridge, Harry sat down opposite her at the table glancing at the names of the cereals she'd laid out. "Do – do we have any eggs?" he asked her.

            "Um…" Emily's voice was slightly muffled as she rummaged through in search of some elusive food item. "Oh, yeah." She turned around, handing him a carton of eggs.

            "Here you go. Now, come on, let's get some fruit out here…"

            Harry got up and went over to the stove, trying to remember where he'd packed away the pots and pans.

            "Third cupboard to your left, bottom shelf." Emily said from deep within the fridge.

            "Oh, thanks." Harry told her, opening the aforementioned cupboard and reaching for a small pan. "Wait – how did you know… I never said…"

            Emily turned around and grinned at him, an orange in hand. "Yeah, you did. Don't worry, I do it all the time."

            Harry looked blankly at her; did she think that he could read her mind?

            "You mumble under your breath a lot – especially if you're trying to remember something or solve a problem."

            "I do not -" Harry stopped abruptly as he realized that Emily was most probably right. _And she'd have had plenty of time to hear me talking to myself all day yesterday_. He groaned inwardly – _Yep, that's me. Potter the Nutter. Potter the Pothead. Poor Potty Potter. Potter the Po-_

            "Ugh!" Emily said, jarring Harry out of his rather negative thoughts.

            "What?" Harry asked, pausing in the act of breaking the egg over the pan. Emily was looking rather disgusted about something, but much to Harry's surprise, it wasn't towards him – she was alternating her look of disgust between a ripe looking orange in one hand and a shiny red apple in the other.

            "Honestly, it's _summer_; what happened to all the interesting fruit? I hope we get to make up our own shopping list next time."

            She turned back to the fridge, resuming her search for 'interesting fruit'. Harry started to feel a bit better about the whole situation. _Well, at least she's not perfect,_ he thought._ She's definitely picky._ He continued to look strangely at her for a few seconds, and was just about to turn back as she cried "Aha!" and pulled out a carton of strawberries, followed by peaches, nectarines, and even a rather prickly looking pineapple.

            "Mmm, pineapple." Emily closed her eyes for a moment, clearly enjoying the scent of the fruit.

            "Pineapple?" Harry said, staring incredulously at the girl in front of him. Emily was starting to make him feel a tad uncomfortable – she looked far too caught up for his liking. All thoughts of the unbroken egg had fled his mind as he stared at her.

            "That's a little _too _interesting for me, thank you. I mean, who names a fruit _pine_apple – and why would you want to eat something that looks like that?!"

            Emily looked up from the fruit in her hands, eyes wide in mock indignation. "What, you don't like pineapple?? It's so sweet and juicy and mmmm yummy!"

            Harry snorted. "There's no way that anything that looks like that tastes good."

            Emily's jaw dropped so low that Harry absently wondered if she'd somehow managed to spontaneously dislocate it. "Are you saying that you've actually never ever even _tried_ pineapple??!"

            "Nope!" Harry said cheerfully. "And I don't mean to."

            Emily's mouth opened and closed a few more times before she finally sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

            "Well, it's my favourite, so more for me, I guess."

            "Sure," Harry said, not really caring, and proceeded to continue making his breakfast.

            He had just sat down with a steaming plate full of food and was wishing for a glass of pumpkin juice when he heard a disgusted "Ew!" come from the fridge. As he looked up, he saw the very thing he'd been wishing for – a jug full of pumpkin juice. However, it was currently held by a rather sickly looking Emily, and therefore seemed to Harry to be in immediate danger of being poured down the drain.

            "You want to know what's disgusting?" she asked him, nose scrunched up. "This, Harry, this is _nasty!!_" With each word she shook the jug, causing a bit of juice to spill out. Harry very quickly got up and relieved her of it, pouring himself a glass in the process. "Pumpkin Juice!" she continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Harry was merrily drinking away as she spoke, a rather amused expression on his face. "Ewwww!! Pumpkin is disgusting enough to begin with, but pumpkin _juice_!! Oh, no."

            Emily stopped as she caught sight of Harry's half grin. "Don't tell me you actually like this concoction."

            Harry opened his eyes very wide as he mimicked her earlier response to his dislike. "What, you don't like pumpkin juice? It's so sweet and juicy and mmmm yummy!"

            Emily narrowed her eyes dangerously at him and merely picked up the jug again, turning slowly but deliberately towards the sink. Harry quite hastily apologized and swiftly took the jug from her once more, smiling sheepishly. "Actually," he told her. "Pumpkin juice is a staple at the school I go to."

            The girl sitting across from him, however, was still looking rather dubiously at the jug, so Harry pulled it close to him and poured himself another glass. "Ah," he said, glancing surreptitiously at Emily to see what her reaction would be. "Now that's good."

            For a few seconds, no reaction came as they sat in the now comfortable silence. After a while, though, Emily raised her head to address Harry.

            "Harry," she tentatively said, glancing rather shyly at him.

            "Yeah?" he answered, feeling slightly wary of her look.

            "Look, I tell you what – I'll try some of your _…oh so good_ …" Harry could hear the sarcasm dripping off her words. "…Pumpkin juice, and you try some of my incredibly sweet and delicious pineapple."

            Harry eyed her and the prickly pineapple cautiously. "I dunno," he told her. "It doesn't look too edible to me."

            "Well that's 'cause it hasn't been cut, now!" Emily replied, fishing out a rather scary looking knife from one of the drawers – the one to the left of the sink, Harry noted – and proceeded to cut it.

            Soon Harry found himself with a piece of pineapple in front of him as Emily raised a glass of pumpkin juice to her lips. The actually rather juicy looking piece didn't seem _too_ unpalatable, and so Harry brought it to his mouth. _What's the worst that can happen?_ he asked himself. _All it can do is taste bad…_

            "I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE ALLERGIC TO PINEAPPLE!!!" Emily yelled, desperately fighting back tears.

            "WELL IT'S NOT LIKE I WOULD KNOW EITHER, IS IT?!?!" Harry bellowed right back at her, eyes blazing. "I'VE NEVER HAD IT BEFORE, AND IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU, I STILL WOULD HAVE NEVER HAD IT!!"

            This was too much for Emily, who promptly burst into tears, all the fight gone out of her as she choked out that she was sorry and ran upstairs, her sobs echoing throughout the house until Harry heard her door slam shut. He paced angrily around the room, trying to calm down as he replayed the events in his mind. He'd eaten the pineapple – which actually wasn't bad at all – but then his throat started to feel all funny and tight. Soon he was gasping for air and Emily was staring at him in horror as his face swelled and his eyes puffed up. By the time she'd run upstairs and come back down with allergy medicine, Harry hadn't even been able to see out of his eyes anymore. Emily had almost had to pour the spoonful of medicine down his throat as Harry gasped for air that he just couldn't get. Then she'd made him wash out his mouth, to get rid of any pineapple that was left, all the while remaining calm and composed in drastic comparison to Harry's wild panic. He sat down and cradled his still swollen face in his hands and shook his head, frustrated. Now that he could actually breathe he knew that he wasn't really angry with her, especially as it was her quick thinking that stopped him from choking to death.

            _Bloody hell – now I'll have to go up and apologize – I hope she doesn't hate me too much. _Harry trudged slowly up the stairs, his heart heavy as he drew closer to her door. He raised his hand to knock, then lowered it. _I could always owl Dumbledore and tell him that I'll go to Grimmauld Place after all._ He thought, beginning to turn away. _She probably doesn't want to see me, anyway._

            He had just stepped away from her door when it opened, Emily poking her tearstained face out into the hall. "Harry?" she asked. "Look, I'm really sorry, Harry, I'm…well…I'm glad you're okay now."

_            On second thoughts, Dumbledore never offered for me to go to Grimmauld Place at all – he'd probably just ship me off back here. Oh well, better get this over with._ Harry turned back to Emily, his face red as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. And, um, thanks…for the uh, medicine and all."

            Emily tucked a now very frizzy curl behind her ears and attempted to smooth her hair back, wiping away her tears. "It's okay – it was my fault in the first place. I – uh- wouldn't touch some of the other 'interesting fruit' if I were you, then; I had a friend who was allergic to more than one of them, so don't eat anything you haven't tried, I guess."

            "Right," Harry nodded, agreeing with her. "You know," he gave her a small smile. " It actually didn't taste that bad."

            "Oh?" Emily quirked an eyebrow at him. "You mean, before it started choking you to death?"

            "Yeah," Harry said, thinking that they'd better get off that subject or there'd be tears again. "Look, let's just forget the whole thing, alright? We could go back and forth for ages about whose fault it was and all of that. So, um, what did you want to do today?"

            Emily looked ready to say that it was her fault again when Harry quickly changed the subject on her. "Oh! Well, uh, we should really finish the cleaning – but I don't know about you, but I'm really sore. So I was thinking, um, maybe we could finish it tomorrow and well, uh, just take it easy today."

            Harry thought that Emily was quite right and readily agreed with her. "Yeah," he said. "I have lots of stuff I need to do for school anyways – I can always get started on that."

            "And I need to call in to work and arrange my schedule…" Emily mused.

            Harry started – he hadn't realized that they'd be allowed to leave the house at all. "I thought we had to stay inside." He told Emily, confused. "Isn't that the whole point of us being here?"

            Emily shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know about you," she said. "But Mr. Dumbledore said that there'd be some kind of _key_ – I think he said – that would take me to work and back. I can't go anywhere else, though. My parents died a couple of years ago, and while they left me some money, I still need to work to pay for any sort of university education."

            Harry stared at Emily – he'd had absolutely no idea that she, like him, was an orphan. It made sense, though; why else would she be sent away completely on her own? Come to think of it, it probably looked strange to her that he was there as well. "Oh," he told her, for lack of anything else to say. "I'm sorry."

            Emily looked at him strangely. "Uh, thanks, I guess. I still have a lot of family who I'm really close to, though, especially my big brother. I usually live with him and his wife, actually."

            Harry felt an irrational surge of jealously rise up inside of him. For a second he'd thought that she was someone like him, with no parents, no real home – but no, she had a home, a life, she had known her parents, spent time with them…Shaking his head clear, he forced a cheerful expression onto his face and looked at Emily.

            "Well, what do you do then? At work, I mean."

            "Oh, I teach dance classes. Ballet, actually, to a bunch of really cute three and four year olds."

            Harry shuddered inwardly at the thought of a class full of screaming children. "I guess that's a pretty good job, then?"

            Emily smiled widely. "Oh, you have _no_ idea how cute they are – and whenever they see me, they all rush and give me a hug – I _love_ kids."

            Harry grimaced slightly and tried to turn it into a smile before Emily caught it but he was too late.

            "Don't like kids?" she asked, grinning. "I have to admit, there are some really bratty ones out there – just one of them for a few minutes could turn one off kids completely."

            "Well I've only met the brats, then." Harry said, still dubious about children in general. The only young children he'd ever been around were the ones who teased him incessantly at school when he was younger and the annoying children of Uncle Vernon's important visitors who came for dinner.

            "Shame," Emily shrugged her shoulders and closed her bedroom door behind her. "Well, I think I'll call work, then."

            Harry nodded and let her pass him, watching her as she bounced down the stairs two at a time. "Strange," he muttered. "One second she's bawling her eyes out, next she's _bouncing._ Who _bounces_, anyway?" He listened for a few more seconds as she bustled around the kitchen and heard her begin to speak to someone in a very animated voice before turning around and heading back into his room. Plopping down on his bed he opened his transfiguration texts and began to read. Within a couple of hours he was more than halfway through the essay Professor McGonagall had set for them to do, and was just about to go and take a break when he heard thunderous footsteps quickly followed by a knock on the door.

            "Yep, come in."

            Emily opened the door, breathing heavily as if she'd just been running up and down the stairs. Her eyes, however, were shining with excitement and she'd crossed the room and grabbed Harry's arm before he even realized what was going on.

            "You'll never guess what we have!!" she said, practically jumping up and down. Harry was sorely tempted to ask if they somehow had a quidditch pitch in the cellar, but knew that was impossible. Emily pulled him down the stairs and raced down the hall towards a door that they had previously supposed was a closet under the stairs.

            "I totally missed this door yesterday – thought it was a closet – and we've never been outside, so we wouldn't have seen this, but look!"

            Emily threw it open to reveal a small hallway that was illuminated with a dancing bluish light. She quickly scampered through, making small delighted giggles the whole time. Harry had to bend his neck to go through, but when he did, a smile found its way onto his face unbidden as he stood in the large, glass walled room. There, attached to the back of the modest house, was a medium sized swimming pool that was slowly filling.

            Harry turned to Emily, confused. "How did we miss this?" he asked her. "Did you just find it? I mean, you've got it filling up already."

            "I found the key in the kitchen while I was on the phone," Emily said, walking with Harry around the pool. "It was all locked up – so, like the attic, nobody really touched it. It was all covered up, so it was fairly easy to clean and I wanted to run the water out anyway. Now that the gunk is out of the pipes, I thought – well, might as well fill it up! This'll be great! It's deep enough to dive in and everything!"

            Emily pointed towards the diving board at the far end of the pool and Harry looked down into the water, noting that it looked rather deep. He began to blush as Emily chatted on, clearly thoroughly excited about the all the possibilities now that they had their own pool. He had taken some swimming lessons with his elementary school, but he'd never been that good – which was another source of joy for Dudley and his gang – and he hadn't swum since with the exception of the TriWizard Tournament. _And I wasn't really swimming – I had gillyweed to help me_.

            "…and of course, there's seats in the shallow end for relaxing…"

            Harry inwardly sighed, feeling relieved. Shallow ends were just fine with him. Emily talked on some more, most of which Harry tuned out, looking for himself. He was beginning to realize that Emily would talk for ages if she got excited about something, but didn't really mind if he wasn't paying full attention. Now that he thought about it, Emily was suiting him just fine – she did her own thing, was fairly intelligent, nice enough – and wasn't overly girly. Well, not _all_ the time. He grimaced as he remembered the lavender steamed bathroom.

            "Hey, Emily," he said as they walked back into the house. "Why don't we clean up the living room and whatever else we can now? That way we can just relax and swim tomorrow."

            Emily turned back to him, grinning. "You know, you aren't so bad, kid."

            "Kid?" Harry asked, incredulous. "We're the same age!"

            "Nope!" Emily said, reaching out an arm to ruffle Harry's already messy hair in mock imitation of parental figure. "I'm seventeen already. You're not sixteen yet. So, I'm over a year older than you, kiddo."

            Harry glared at her, futilely trying to fix his hair. "I dated a girl who was a year older than me, so what?" he said, conveniently glossing over the fact that he and Cho had only had half a date to begin with.

            "Uh, Harry," Emily said, looking uncertain and backing away from him. "Look, we only just met yesterday – why don't we take things a little slower – I don't know about you, but I like to get to know someone first before we get into any kind of…relationship."

            Harry stared wide-eyed at Emily, a blush beginning to form on his cheeks as he realized the implications of what he'd said. Emily, however, seemed to take pity on him and broke out into wild laughter, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

            "Sorry, sorry," she wheezed out a few minutes later. "Oh, you're too much." – and promptly dissolved into another set of giggles.

            _Right._ thought Harry. _So she's nice, intelligent, but with random spurts of utter insanity._

            "Harry," Emily said, seeing the blush still on Harry's face and the confused look in his eyes. "Harry, I was _joking_. I know we're practically the same age – I was just kidding around!"

            She shook her head and left him standing in the hallway as she went in search of the cleaning supplies from the day before. Harry felt rather foolish, as it was now blatantly obvious to him that she'd just been teasing him all along. Emily soon reappeared in the hallway, brandishing brooms, old rags, furniture polish, and the lot.

            "Well?" she asked, disappearing into the living room, an amused look still in her eyes. Harry followed her in, still feeling a bit stupid. _Maybe I just need to lighten up a bit. Yeah, that's it._

            Emily grinned at him as he entered the room where she was already on her knees clearing away the glass. Harry smiled back. "You sure you want to do that?" he asked her, his face serious. "I mean, _old people_ like you shouldn't put so much stress on their knees."

            Emily's mouth hung open for a second before she chuckled. "And you young uns' should remember that your elders know best!" she sharply retorted, grinning away.

            Harry got down beside her, quickly getting to work. _I suppose I'm rather insane myself._ He thought. _The Prophet has always said I need to be locked up in St. Mungo's – I might as well have some fun being insane while I'm at it, then._

A/N: You like? You no like? Review!!(Although I sincerely hope it's the former.) Any ideas for what they should go through next? I don't know if this is going to be a romance yet – I'm just seeing how the characters develop and relate to each other. Although any input might just sway me in one direction or the other (hint hint nudge nudge).

-Laren


	4. Pools, SeeThrough Tshirts and How to be ...

A/N: Hello to anyone who's actually still reading this – I know I haven't updated for forever, but school's starting up and I got really involved with moving into my new place. This story, though, just seems to keep on popping up with new chapter ideas every now and then, so I just had to get it out and posted. Lemme know if you like it! 

On with the story!

Chapter 4: Pools, See-Through T-shirts and How to be an Attentive Ignorer 

Harry walked groggily out of his room. It had taken him several minutes to register his surroundings when he'd first woken up. Two weeks into their stay, he and Emily had gone on a room painting binge – or rather, Emily had insisted on painting her room (Harry privately didn't see what all the fuss was about – he'd had to live in Dudley's second bedroom full of peeling wallpaper for years) and Harry had decided he might as well paint his room. So, several cans of paint and ruined shirts later, Harry finally had his new garnet red and white room across the hall from Emily's rather girly one. He padded over to Emily's door and knocked lightly before going in slowly.

"Um-wha-go-ugh-go-away-umm..."

Harry grinned as he shook himself awake. Despite the fact that Emily had surprised him by being up early that second day, she had since consistently failed to voluntarily leave her bed until at least ten in the morning. Unfortunately, as she pointed out to Harry, she had an early morning class full of four year olds who, at the unearthly hour of eight, were full of realms of boundless energy with which they greeted their beloved teacher, a very tired Emily.

"Sorry Em," Harry began, moving into the room as he blatantly ignored Emily's mumbles, groans, and the occasional pillow which came flying in his direction. "but you threatened to slip pineapple into my mouth while I slept if I didn't wake you up so..."

He crossed the room in couple steps and flung open her curtains, turning triumphantly as she let out a yell and dove under the covers. Harry grinned wickedly and quietly left the room, slipping downstairs to the kitchen where he filled up a glass of water before quickly going back upstairs. Standing beside her bed, he noted that she'd pulled the curtains back together again with her telekinesis. "Come on, Em, don't make me do this the hard way..."

Harry grabbed the edge of her covers to pull them back, and, as he'd expected, Emily squealed and held tightly onto them. "What?" he said, sounding exasperated.

Emily tentatively poked her head out from under the covers. "I'm naked." She explained, holding the covers tightly to her neck as if to keep Harry from seeing anything. Harry rolled his eyes; the top of a t-shirt was clearly visible at her neck but he still found himself hard pressed not to think of a naked Emily while raising the glass to his lips.

"That's low, Em. You know I won't yank them off you now, that's not fair!" he paused in the act of taking a drink. "But then again, neither is this!"

Before Emily had time to react, Harry had dumped the entire contents of the glass onto her face, the icy cold water soaking her as it ran down her pajamas. "HARRY!!" she shrieked "HARRY-HARRY...YOU...HARRY- uh, whatever your middle name is- POTTER! YOU LITTLE...UGH!! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!"

Harry took several steps back, laughing. "You'll have to join the line, then – and I have to warn you, it gets longer by the day."

He would have gone on laughing forever – the look of utter shock on Emily's face as she spluttered was priceless – but the current murderous glare that she was sending in his direction as she sat bolt upright in bed, her hair and shirt drenched was making him more than a little bit nervous and he distinctly began to get the uneasy feeling that he'd rather face Voldemort than Emily when she got out of the bed. He began to edge towards the door, but in his mirth he'd stepped back to the far corner of the room and horror of horrors – the maniacally grinning Emily was now between him and the door.

"Harry," she said, her voice sickly sweet. "You know, Harry, it was so _very nice_ of you to wake me up so very _efficiently _this morning. And you know what else? You look like you still have a little sleep left in you – did you wake up and come straight here?"

Harry nodded, eyeing her warily as she took a step closer to him. "Yeah, I did."

"Well, then, why don't we get it out of you then? You know what I think will do it?"

"No." Harry said, not at all sure that he wanted to know. Suddenly, however, Emily's eyes flashed and he found himself upside down, hurtling through the air as she maneuvered him down the stairs and towards the back of the house. Harry, with his distorted perception of the world, didn't realize where she was flying him until he saw the tell tale pattern of water reflecting on the wall. _"EMILY!!!"_ he yelled, seconds before he was raised higher into the air and then let go, plunging several feet through air before landing headfirst into the deep end of their pool. As he broke the surface, spluttering and choking, he heard laughter and turned to see Emily doubled over with laughter at the doorway.

"Harry, oh, Harry..." a fresh burst of laughter erupted. "Oh, that was priceless..."

Emily trailed off, evidently having noticed that Harry had stopped spluttering and was merely staring at her, his face very red. When Emily had straightened up Harry couldn't help but notice that her shirt, although beginning to dry off, was in fact still quite wet, clingy and _completely_ see through. Emily stared back at him, confusion all over her face.

"Uh..." she began, apparently not realizing exactly what had Harry so transfixed.

"Your...shirt..." Harry managed after a few minutes, during which Emily's face had begun to show some gradual awareness as to what she was wearing – an oversized white t-shirt and nothing else. Now, however, the realization stuck home like a thunderclap, her face turning an impressive scarlet before she gasped and ran wildly out of the room, doors slamming behind her as she went.

Slowly coming downstairs from drying off in his room, Harry heard the whoosh! that told him Emily had just left for work. After seeing practically all of her - which he had to admit he hadn't really minded – Emily had made sure he hadn't seen her at all, locking herself in her room that morning and even eating breakfast in there before leaving early for work. Still, they were supposed to go by Grimmauld Place the next day together to pick up that week's supplies, so they'd have to see each other sometime.

"But how am I supposed to even look at her now – I mean – I can't....not without seeing....them..."

"Good thing I made Molly wait until tonight to see you, then, Harry – that did sound a bit worrisome."

Harry whirled around – and saw Remus Lupin standing behind him, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Professor Lupin!!" he said, shocked and slightly embarrassed. "I – uh – that wasn't what you think...I just..."

"I just thought I'd come by and say hello, as I'm going off to do some work abroad for a while. How are you doing, Harry?"

Harry's mood instantly went from embarrassed to sober. He knew Lupin was referring to Sirius. The two weeks after his return from school had been hell, despite the fact that the Dursleys were more scared and therefore nicer to him than ever. The new house, however, had kept him so busy with his cleaning that he'd find himself going half a day without thinking about the events at the Ministry.

"Better, actually." He replied truthfully. "What - uh – about you?"

Lupin smiled sadly. "I'm hanging on. I'm glad to hear you're alright, though- it certainly didn't sound as if you were thinking about Si-him right now."

Harry winced slightly – it still hurt him to remember, as it evidently did Lupin. He blushed, though, when he heard what Lupin had just said. "Oh – well – Em and I... I mean, Emily, I don't think you've met her... well we had a bit of a mishap this morning getting up."

The boyish grin returned to Lupin's face. "Oh?" he said, seating himself on a newly cleaned armchair by the fireplace. "Well, I'm all packed – this is my last stop – so please – do elaborate. I've plenty of time."

Harry fought another blush but began to talk nonetheless. He didn't really mind telling Lupin – it was actually nice to be able to talk to someone who he hoped would understand.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Maybe afterwards," Lupin replied, smiling at Harry's attempts to distract him. "Then you can give me the grand tour of the new Potter residence."

Harry puffed up his chest slightly; cleaning the house and fixing it up the way he wanted – _you mean the way Emily wanted – _had given him more than a little bit of pride in what they now called 'their' house.

"Well," he said, plopping into a squishy chair. "Em's not so good at waking up by herself in the morning."

Lupin raised an eyebrow at Harry's nickname for his housemate, but said nothing. "And so she asks me to wake her up in the morning."

"That's nice of you, Harry." Lupin observed.

"Yeah, well, she threatened to slip pineapple in my mouth otherwise, so it's not like I have a choice." He grumped, scowling at Lupin, who was laughing heartily.

"Yes, I heard about that." Lupin replied, his eyes sparkling.

"Hey!" Harry said, indignant. Lupin promptly apologized and calmed down, gesturing for Harry to continue.

"Well, she's really hard to get up, so I dumped cold water on her."

"And the rather spirited Miss Gould got you back?"

"Yeah," Harry said, grimacing as he remembered his rather unpleasant early morning dip. "Well guess what? We have a large pool full of icy cold water."

He glared at his former professor, who appeared to be desperately trying not to laugh. "That's not the point though." He insisted, the blush reappearing. "I got her soaked – completely, and her shi-"

Lupin coughed slightly. "Ah, I see the problem. Does she... know?"

"Well," Harry began, feeling rather disgruntled. "Seeing as I was staring rather obviously for a good five minutes and she was watching me staring before she caught on."

"Five minutes?" Lupin enquired, clearly amused.

"Yes." Harry stubbornly said. _Well, you would've too, if you'd been there. You can't resist...that._

Lupin leveled a long, appraising stare at Harry, causing him to squirm awkwardly in his seat. "Uh, why don't I get you that drink and give you the tour now?" he said, rising to his feet.

The older man followed him into the kitchen. "Thanks, Harry, but I'm fine – I just ate before coming here. Molly insisted on stuffing me before I left. I wouldn't be too worried about Emily, Harry; she's bound to be embarrassed, of course, but I'm sure you'll work it out."

_Yeah, sure, after weeks of awkward silence and avoiding each other_, Harry thought, but merely nodded his head.

"So!" Lupin remarked. "I guess that was your living room, then?"

Harry grinned at him. "Yeah, it was." He gestured towards the yet to be cleaned dining room and porch. "We haven't got around to cleaning the dining room and porch – there's a table in the kitchen, so we really don't use those rooms. Uh, and down here is the pool."

Harry led his professor upstairs, pointing out their rooms as well as the light filled attic.

"You two have been working hard!" Lupin surveyed the roomy attic, clearly impressed.

"No, actually, this room was the only one that was clean from the start." Harry corrected him. "But we cleaned the kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedrooms."

"And you painted them, too." Lupin pointed out. "Well, it's good to see that you're keeping busy. So, this morning's incident aside, are you getting along well with...Emily? Dumbledore said she was a nice girl."

"Yeah, she's nice." Harry said, not trusting himself to elaborate at that particular moment in time.

"She's a muggle, right?"

"Yes, but she's telekittic or something like that." Harry grinned as he remembered his embarrassment the first day he'd met her when she'd cleaned her room abnormally fast. It soon faded as he remembered how she'd used it to dump him in the pool. Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"I was wondering how she'd put you in the pool – telekinetic, you say?"

"That's it." Harry confirmed.

"Interesting." Lupin sighed, and then clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, a brave front on his face. "Well, I'm glad I got to see you Harry – hopefully I'll be back before you head off to school. I must be off now, though."

"It was good to see you too." Harry replied awkwardly. Lupin looked so sad at having to leave him there that he felt the need to reassure him. "I'm fine, really."

Lupin looked surprised for a second before a genuine smile broke out over his face. "You can't put anything past you, can you?"

"I dunno," Harry dully replied, staring at a black spot on the rough wooden floor. "Voldemort managed to pull the wool over my eyes, didn't he?" Emotions that he thought he'd dealt with came flooding back, guilt overwhelming him. Lupin seemed to sense this and enveloped him in a quick hug before pulling back to look Harry eye to eye. Harry was surprised and strangely relieved to find his emotions mirrored in Lupin's dull blue gaze.

"I think it's my fault, really." Lupin said wryly. Harry shook his head violently.

"No, no, if I hadn't been stupid enough to run off-"

"And if I hadn't been so weak that I couldn't stop Sirius from running off."

"If I had only used the mirrors-"

"If I'd only kept track of what Kreacher was doing.'

Harry stopped and stared at Lupin. "Are-we're- we're fighting over whose fault it is!"

Lupin laughed, his eyes still sad. "That, Harry, is exactly the point." He looked down at a watch before quickly straightening up. "Ah! I really do have to go now, Harry. If I don't see you, have a good term at school and enjoy the rest of your summer. Your pool looks quite refreshing."

"Not when you're dumped in it without any warning!" Harry joked, his heart feeling a little lighter as Lupin disapparated. His good mood continued throughout the day, even extending so far that Harry wrote lengthy letters to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, for Mrs. Weasley to give them when he saw her later on.

Harry had just finished his letter to Hermione when he looked at the clock beside his bed that told him Emily should be arriving home soon. Turning back to his desk, he nearly dropped the letter in shock when he heard someone knock on his door. "C-come in!" he called, his voice more than a little shaky.

Emily came in, resolutely plopping down on Harry's bed the way she'd come to in the past couple of weeks, as if valiantly trying to ignore the fact that Harry had seen through her shirt that morning.

"Hey." She said, flipping her hair back out of her eyes. Harry felt sympathetic; he too, knew what it was like to have hair that refused to cooperate and lie back on command.

"Hullo," he responded, turning around in his chair so he faced her. "Good day at work?"

"Ugh." Emily snorted, waving her hands around dismissively. "I am never ever ever going to have kids. I'm going to be cool Aunt Emily, and spoil 'em rotten and then give them back at the end of the day. No way am I –ugh! Harry, seriously, I have a theory about all these summer activity things. The parents can't stand the kids themselves, so they send them off to some kind of activity – and so _we_ get all the brats."

Harry smirked. "I thought you said they were cute."

Emily scowled at him. "I said they _looked_ cute." She sighed. "There are some really sweet ones, though. Anyway, about this morning..."

Harry's head shot up - he'd expected Emily to avoid him and the subject like the plague, not act totally normal and then _bring it up in normal conversation_, like 'Oh, Harry, I read a good book today – yes and, remember when you saw through my shirt this morning?'

Emily noted Harry's rather obvious shock and continued. "Look, I don't mean about – _you know what­ _– and if you mention that to anyone don't even get me started on what I'll do to you, but honestly, something ridiculously embarrassing and awkward was bound to happen, but let's _never_ bring that up again, okay?"

Harry nodded vigorously, feeling much relieved.

"I meant about dumping you in the pool – look, I overreacted, and I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged. When it came down to it, he really didn't mind so much – it was only to be expected after waking her up with cold water. "Not a problem." he smirked at her. "It was only fair, really."

Emily mock glared at his smirk before sighing and lying down, evidently enjoying the large body pillow Harry had rescued from the attic one day. "I love this pillow." She mumbled, her voice obscured by the material. She seemed to sense the skeptical look Harry was directing at her back as she quickly sat up again, smoothing her hair and looking more than a bit ruffled.

"Yes, yes, well, uh, anyways, I meant, that, um..."

"I was saying that it was only fair for you to dump me in the pool after I soaked you." Harry helpfully supplied.

"Oh, yes, well, no, I meant that I asked you to wake me up – oh bloody hell, so, yes, I'll probably be continually crabby in the mornings but I won't take it out on you anymore." Emily still seemed more than a little bit flustered, and Harry began to catch on that maybe she wasn't so unruffled by the whole affair as she appeared to be.

"Yeah, right," Harry replied, rumpling his hair.

"True, okay, so I'll _try _not to harm you. Too badly." She added, obviously feeling as if she should be honest. Harry quite appreciated her truthfulness, although he already knew that he should have run out of the room the moment the water hit her.

"So." Emily reclined on Harry's bed again, earning herself a rather wary look from Harry. Emily looked entirely too comfortable on the bed – _his_ bed – for his liking. Harry had never really shared a living space with anyone other than the Dursleys or the boys at Hogwarts, (by which he meant Ron), and he wasn't quite sure if Emily should be so very at home in his room. Granted, it was also her house, but Harry felt that their – well, _housemateship_ was moving a little too fast. _But it's not like there's anyone else around to be all chummy with. And I can't spend all summer in my room._ Harry reasoned, only vaguely registering that Emily's mouth was moving, and therefore she was presumably talking, but as she appeared to be holding the conversation up quite well by herself, there was no need for him to spoil it with an unnecessary comment. Suddenly a small voice piped up unbidden and very much unwelcome. _But at the Dursleys you were perfectly happy to stay in your room all summer. _

Harry started, then shook his head violently to rid it of any unwelcome visitors.

"No?" Emily said, confused. "But, - I thought you said that you liked – quidditch – right? Oh! Am I – yes, I'm saying it wrong, aren't I?"

"No, no," Harry hastily assured her. "You're saying it just fine."

Emily looked at him curiously, suspicion creeping across her features. "Harry," she began. "Were you listening to me at all? Even one little bit?"

Harry considered lying for a second but dropped the idea after realizing that Emily, who had some suspiciously Hermione-esque traits, would probably find out that he wasn't listening after all. Smiling sheepishly, he confessed. "Sorry," he said. "I just got caught up in something for a moment."

Emily glared at him for a couple of seconds before sighing and sitting up to look earnestly at him. "Harry, I'm about to let you in on a secret."

"Oh yeah?" Harry raised an eyebrow. _I bet you anything even the smallest little piece of information about my life will blow your 'secret' out of the water._

"Harry, us girls," Emily patiently began, seeing the disbelief on Harry's face. "You know we sometimes get mad at you for not listening to us when we're talking."

Harry sat up straight. Now this was getting better. "But that's only because we're not really interested. Not that you're not interesting," he quickly tagged on at the thunderous expression on Emily's face. "Just that we're interested in different things."

Emily stopped just short of letting loose a verbal storm on Harry and instead eyed him thoughtfully. "Well, at least you're not a total loss."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"But honestly, Harry, don't ever, ever, ever tell a girl that you're not interested in what she's saying – even if you don't like her all that much."

"Why not?" Harry asked, curious, deciding to ignore Emily's insult of him. He was fully aware now that he was getting an insight to the female mind that Hermione never really had the patience to explain to him for more than a few seconds and was not about to ruin his good luck.

Emily sighed, obviously deciding against an alternate answer as she slowly spoke. "Well, she might be friends – or at least know a girl that you do like – and we do talk, you know."

"Ah," Harry said, nodding. "Well, that's a good reason, then."

"Anyway, as I was saying, so when you're listening to something that you really couldn't care about or even understand for that matter, you need to do three very important things."

Harry sat up even straighter, his attention held rapt by Emily's words. He only wondered if he should be writing this down. "What's that, then?"

Emily beamed at him. "Well, first, you need to identify if it's something that however boring, you really should listen to because it will contain really important clues like, what she wants for her birthday, or more important yet, when her birthday is."

Harry nodded. Emily made perfect sense – he'd had no idea when Hermione's birthday was for years and it was only through Ginny's help that he and Ron had even found out in time. "Also, you might want to listen if she's upset – you know, eyes glistening, or overly happy – you know, it might be some important moment in her life." Once again, Harry nodded, his look urging Emily to continue.

"Well, once you've done that, you either listen, or you don't. But if you don't listen, here's where the other two steps come into play. First, you've got to be an attentive ignorer. Have a general idea of where the conversation is going. At least look at the expression on her face, and the lilt of the voice – so you can tell when a question is coming and you won't have to worry about those horrible tell-tale silences that just scream you weren't listening."

"Right," Harry said, seriously. "So, first, to listen, or not to listen." Emily nodded encouragingly. "And then I have to at least fake listening properly – not just uh huhs now and then, but a little bit more involved."

"Yes!" Emily said, triumphantly. "That's exactly it Harry, a bit more effort, but..."

"It saves you such a row." Harry finished. "So, what's the third thing?"

"Well," Emily continued her lesson. "Now and then – especially if you have been doing a lot of fake listening lately – casually ask that person – or better yet, someone close to that person how they've been doing – you know, anything special, big, exciting, sad, life changing...just a bit of checking up, you know, to make sure you haven't been missing anything big."

"Oh," Harry looked thoughtful. "Oh, I see. Just, maybe, once a week or so, a catch up talk?"

Emily looked impressed. "Not a total loss at all! I'd love it if all my – well, male friends took the time to catch up with me on how I was doing every week! No, I was thinking more like every couple of weeks or so! See, Harry, its not a big deal, but we girls don't think you're stupid, even if it seems like we do, so we just get a little frustrated when you don't do something the way we want."

"All right," Harry said. "I can live with that. Can I tell Ron, or is this like some female supreme secret that you've just told me?"

Emily laughed and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Harry – I can't believe you guys don't know this stuff. It's so obvious! Yeah, sure, tell Ron – the world would be a better place if all you boys knew this." She grinned at Harry's outraged look before jumping off the bed and sauntering across to the door.

"I'm commandeering the bathroom for the next hour or so, just incase you want to use it."

"Nah, I'm fine." Harry said, knowing that he'd regret his decision when he had to get ready for bed and it would smell like Emily's favourite lavender shampoo.

"All right then. Night, Harry!"

"G'night, Em."

A/N: Any good? Don't like it at all? Review and let me know! (If you review there's another chapter that's already almost finished just waiting to be posted!)

-Laren


	5. Of Roses, Body Pillows, and Various othe...

**Disclaimer:** (although I forgot this last time!) I really don't own any of this (except for Emily and anyone else you don't recognize) – and I'm certainly not making any money off of it!

A/N: I said if someone reviewed that you'd get another chapter and you did! Although yes, it has been awhile, but that's because I finally got my network card installed so I can actually go on the Internet. So, I'm sorry about the wait, but here's the next chapter!

On with the Story!

**Chapter 5: Of Roses, Body Pillows and Items of a Personal Nature.**

Harry removed his face from the pillow and looked around the room, his eyes blinking as he took in his surroundings. Something was not quite right. _Okay, so I'm in my room, no surprise there – but...something...EM!!!_ His eyes widened in horror as he looked at the clock in his room, which, despite his shaking it up and down several times, continued to read a terrifying 7:45. Harry sat bolt upright before yelling at the top of his lungs as he lunged out of his bed towards the door at the foot of his bed.

"EMILY!! EM, GET UP! GET UP, EMILY, YOU'RE LATE!!!! _EMILY!!!_"

Not bothering to knock on the door Harry barged into the room, jumping onto Emily's bed as he simultaneously pulled the covers back. A very flustered and startled Emily took one look at the clock beside him and promptly began to hyperventilate.

"Harry!" she shrieked between gasps. "Harry, Harry, I'm... I'm..."

"You're LATE!" Harry yelled back at her. "Quick!! Bathroom! NOW!"

Emily nodded dumbly, but did not move, her newly awoken muscles not responding to her command. Harry pulled her off the bed with him and steered her towards the bathroom, shoving her in and closing the door behind her. He had just turned away when Emily stuck her head out the bathroom door. "Towel!" she commanded. Harry nodded and turned back towards her room when Emily called him back. "My clothes are laid out on the chair by my desk, and third drawer down on the left has underwear..."

"_Underwear?"_ Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Emily looked right back at him.

"What's the big deal, really, just grab one and go, you can even close your eyes if you want, there's nothing but underwear in there..."

Harry gulped.

"Look, it's not like you haven't already seen way too much than is appropriate at all, so look, just get it...I'm LATE!"

Emily promptly slammed the door in Harry's very stunned face. He remained unmoving until he heard Emily's voice over the now running water. "I said, GO GET IT!!!"

Harry ran quickly to her room and fetched the required items in record speed, running back to the bathroom and depositing them inside with his eyes tightly closed so as to avoid more embarrassing morning encounters. He had just settled himself at the kitchen table with a glass of pumpkin juice after coming downstairs for breakfast when Emily jumped down the last few steps to grab a piece of toast off of Harry's plate and run out to the living room.

"Thanks, Harry!" she called. "See you in a bit!"

"Bye! – Oh and I'm going to... Em? Emily? Em?" He peered into the living room but Emily had already gone through the fireplace. _Damn, she's fast, _ Harry thought as he turned and walked back to the kitchen. Ron, a chronic late riser and last minute person, would be vastly impressed.

Ambling contented along the hallway towards the bathroom after a rather satisfying breakfast, Harry found himself feeling considerably better due to his sleeping in. He was in such a good mood, in fact, that he didn't even notice the strong scent of lavender that usually assaulted him when he went in the bathroom after Emily. _Wait a minute...I don't smell it at all...but..._ Harry sniffed the air. _What's that? That's not her usual...hey, she got new shampoo!_

True enough, there on the edge of the bath stood a brand new bottle of NEW! Essence Herbale Rose Temptations Shampoo for Dry/Damaged Hair alongside a matching bottle of conditioner. The conditioner's label was similar, except for the proclamation that it contained 'Ylang-ylang' and was guaranteed to provide the user with an intensely mind-blowing hair-washing experience. "Oh Yes!! Yes!" were the words coming out of the girl's mouth on a picture caption at the back of the bottle, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Harry raised an eyebrow before running a hand contemplatively through his own hair.

_Well,_ he mused, _Em's hair has been looking less...frizzy lately, and I guess I could do with a good wash..._ He continued to debate with himself for a few more seconds before pulling off his shirt and turning the water on. _It's not like anyone will find out..._ he reasoned.

Harry's head snapped around as he heard the telltale 'whoosh!' signifying Emily's return. He'd been digging through some of the as yet unopened boxes in the attic when he realized that Emily would soon be home and proceeded to make his way downstairs to the living room. As he walked through the kitchen, he'd paused to look at his reflection in a pot on the stove. _It is a _bit_ shinier,_ Harry thought, desperately trying to smooth back an errant lock of his newly washed hair. _And conditioned._ He hadn't quite had the mind-blowing experience promised on the bottle, but it had been easier to comb his hair afterwards.

His attention, however, was quickly diverted away from his hair as Emily ran into the kitchen, eyes and nose red as she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck in a death grip that quickly threatened to cut off his air supply.

"Ha-ha-harry!" she sobbed into his shoulder. "Oh, Harry, I..."

Harry found himself being filled with alarm as Emily proceeded to soak his shirt. Emily had already burst into tears on him once, but he'd known what he'd done wrong that time. Now, however, she was just bawling away at the sight of him. _Uh oh,_ his subconscious kicked in, _that's what Cho did._

"Uh, look, Emily, I...uh...missed you too – it has been a long couple of hours, I guess."

Emily ceased sobbing long enough to look quizzically up at Harry, her face tear-streaked and eyes puffy. "Who said anything about _you?_" she asked him. Harry, feeling rather insulted, stiffened and began to pull away from her but Emily screwed up her face and choked out. "You didn't do anything – it was....him!!" and promptly burst back into tears. Harry, slowly beginning to understand the situation – he had a vague idea that someone had done something Emily really didn't like and that it was a member of the male species – awkwardly placed his arms around her, hoping that she'd laugh at him for doing so and stop crying or get angry at him and stop crying. Unfortunately, Emily only hugged him tighter and he heard a muffled "You're so nice, Harry" come from somewhere in his shoulder region.

"...Thanks..." Harry said, unsure as to whether or not she had just informed him that he had lice. Emily seemed to accept his thanks, so he decided that she had just complimented him after all.

"Uh, Em..." Harry tentatively began after a few minutes, during which Emily was showing small signs of somewhat beginning to calm down. "Look, Em, is there anything I can – uh – do? Get you?"

Emily raised her tearstained face, which Harry thought was dangerously close to his own, and sniffed tremulously. "Pillow?" she asked, her eyes wide and glistening. Harry was momentarily confused before he remembered Emily's deep love for his flannelette body pillow.

"Ah, yes, I'll be right back."

Harry very quickly ran upstairs and grabbed the rather large pillow off of his bed as well as a box of tissues from Emily's room before jumping down several stairs at once to land completely upside down on the kitchen floor, the wind knocked out of him. "Harry?" Emily's faint voice jolted him back to reality and he shot up and ran back into the living room, where Emily was sniffing away into a small armchair cushion.

"Here, Em." Harry held the pillow and tissues out to the crying girl, which she gratefully accepted. Soon she was installed on the big sofa with the large pillow and going through the tissues at an alarming rate.

"So," Harry reached out and lightly touched Emily on the shoulder in what he thought came somewhat close to a reassuring gesture. "What...uh...happened? I mean, if you want to tell me, I understand if you don't..."

Emily stopped sniffling long enough to look up and Harry and smile weakly at him. "Um...it's...such a girl thing, really...I should be happy it's over...wasn't going anywhere..."

Harry couldn't for the life of him begin to even remotely understand what Emily was going on about but carefully schooled his features into a look of supreme concern and sympathy, as she was obviously distraught. Emily, however, straightened up completely and peered suspiciously at Harry.

"Harry," she said, now looking rather concerned herself. "Harry, are you okay? You look like...you're in pain, or something." She reached a hand up to his forehead and felt him temperature before shaking her head. "Well, you don't have a fever. Weird. Are you alright?"

Harry blinked a couple of times. "Y-yeah." He stammered, now more confused than ever. He stared at her for a few more seconds before shaking his head and continuing. "No, Em, I'm fine – I was just – well you seemed upset about what happened..." he trailed off, indicating for Emily to go on.

Emily's face seemed to go from concerned to desperately upset in a matter of seconds. In less than a moment Emily was back at her tissues, crying again as Harry, still very perplexed, looked on feeling very useless. After a few minutes, Emily got up and Harry heard the water running upstairs. Soon she came back downstairs, her face clean and a good-sized stash of milk chocolate. Emily sat down in her original spot, saying nothing but offering Harry a piece, which he gratefully took – it gave him something to do while he waited for her to tell him what was going on.

"I dumped my boyfriend." She said suddenly, causing Harry to choke on his half-eaten piece of chocolate.

"Oh." He managed after a few seconds. Then, feeling rather stupid because he could think of nothing else to say, he added, "I didn't know you had a boyfriend." on. Emily nodded sadly.

"Well, now I don't."

Harry saw her eyes begin to water again and quickly told her to eat a piece of chocolate, which thankfully averted the near crisis. He watched her solemnly for a few more seconds before something clicked in his mind.

"Hang on," he said, his face brightening with the look of someone who has just discovered the answer to a very complex math problem. "If _you_ dumped _him_, doesn't that make everything alright, then?"

This, however, turned out to be the worst thing he could possibly have said. Before he knew it Emily was fully on top of him, crying her heart out and re-soaking his shirt, which had only just dried. "No-noo." she mumbled, holding onto him tightly in despair. Harry decided he'd try the arm thing again and sure enough, Emily began to calm down as he awkwardly patted her back. "Harry?" Emily said quietly, the tears gone, but her eyes still looking horribly sad.

"Yeah?" Harry said, looking back at her. Emily was currently what could only be described as a mess. She'd cleaned her face before, but repeated sob episodes had taken their toll and her eyes were red and puffy, her lips turned down at the edges and her nose red and swollen from being blown repeatedly. All her frizzy curls were back in full force, a lot of them partially obscuring her blotchy face. Harry, much to his displeasure, had seen other girls cry, and they'd mostly just looked sad with tears streaming angelically down their faces. For the most part, they just annoyed him. Emily, however, made Harry feel upset, as if she was somehow transferring her emotions to him.

"I didn't want to dump him. We were together for...almost a year, now, and I thought it was going great...at least...I was so stupid! It's so obvious now...I don't know how I believed him...ugh, I'm so dumb." Emily buried her face in Harry's chest, but sounding more annoyed with herself than sad. Harry desperately fought an urge to squirm, rather aware of their position.

"You're not stupid, Em." he said, hoping that he'd got it right this time. The small smile that Emily gave him served to show that he had at least been on the right track.

"No? Look, I know you're just being nice. You see, Jared – that's his name-" Harry nodded. "Jared was cheating on me. Was for about six months now. _Six_ months! I'm like, what, was I just not enough for him, so he had to go and top up with someone else. Why didn't he just break up with me, then, hunh? I mean, come on, that's just cruel, leading me on like that for _ages_ while he has his fun with someone else! You know what, Harry, relationships suck. That's it. There's nothing else to it. I'm done with all of this stuff, Harry. I _really_ can't be bothered."

Emily shook her head in disgust as she pushed herself off of Harry's chest. Harry tried to get up but found that Emily was still on his lap, making it too hard to get up from his lying-down position. "Em," Harry said, this time managing a consoling voice without Emily enquiring as to his health. "Em...uh...you know what? I'm sure she wasn't as pretty as you."

Emily gave Harry an I-know-you're-lying-cause-I-know-I-look-like-something-the-cat-dragged-in look before emitting a small snort of laughter. She looked at Harry again, obviously amused as she began to laugh fully, eventually doubling over as peals of laughter rang through the room.

Harry stared back at her, more confused than ever. _Am I missing something?_ He thought, staring wide-eyed at the Emily's shaking figure. "Em?" he tentatively asked. Emily turned to him, eyes sparkling as she leaned down and jabbed her pointer finger into Harry's chest.

"Damn right I'm prettier!" she laughed again. "Sorry, I sort of left out a big part. Jared's...gay. He was cheating on me with another guy."

Harry was stunned into absolute silence. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he grinned cheekily at Emily and grabbed hold of her jabbing finger. "Your boyfriend is _gay_ and you complain when he wants to date another guy? Come on, Em, be a bit more open-minded! Really, in this day and age-"

Emily stared down at Harry incredulously before indignation appeared all over her face. "You – you little – you – you – I didn't know he was gay! Harry! That was not funny! Oh, you are so..."

Emily reached underneath them and proceeded to attempt to smack Harry over the head with the body pillow, which turned out to be an absolute failure as it was caught underneath them. That failing, she immediately turned her attentions to the various cushions around the room and proceeded to bombard Harry, using them to chase him all the way towards the back of the house.

"Oh no you don't!" Harry bellowed, turning back at the doorway to the pool. "You promised!!" Unfortunately, Emily came barreling through after the flying cushions at full speed. Harry began to step back, holding back his hands as if to ward her off. "Em, Emily, slow down. Come on, Em, you can stop now! Em! _EMILY-_"

"AHHHHH!" Unfortunately for the two, Emily had misjudged her speed and slid across the tiles in her socks straight towards Harry, knocking then both over backwards right into the pool. Harry came up first, spluttering and coughing as he flayed around wildly. Suddenly his hand connected with something solid. A second later, Emily rose from the pool, rubbing her now sore head. "_Owww."_ She looked accusingly at Harry. "Good going, Potter."

Harry rather ineffectively glared at her as he couldn't exactly see her properly without his glasses, which he'd managed to lose during their plunge. "Sorry," he said unmeaningfully. "Do you know where my glasses went?"

"Uh," Emily treaded water as she looked below her. Suddenly she squinted down at a spot before looking up at Harry. "Yeah, just a sec, I'll get 'em." She dove beneath the water's surface, coming back up after a few seconds with the glasses held tightly in one hand. Harry swum over to her and retrieved them from her outstretched hand and promptly put them on. Now that he was fully able to see her, he glared icily at her.

"Good going, G-Gold? Goldstein? No, it only had one syllable."

"Gould." Emily called back to Harry from the end of the pool. She grasped the edge and pulled herself out. "Ugh!" she exclaimed, going to the poolside cupboard and grabbing a towel. "At least I'm not wearing white this time."

Harry's head snapped up to look at Emily, but she had already wrapped the towel tightly around herself. Sighing, he swam over to the edge of the pool and hauled himself out and took the towel Emily was offering to him. "Now we're all wet."

"And starving." Emily added. "Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Oh, yeah." Harry emphatically agreed with her. "Come on, I just remembered. I made fajitas."

"You made _what_?" Emily stared incredulously at him.

"_Fajitas_." Harry said more than a little defensively. "They were the only healthy food that Dudley would eat."

Emily laughed and shook her head. "Alright, then, don't get upset."

"I'm not upset." Harry huffed. "Why would you think that?"

"Forget it," Emily giggled. "Let's just go and eat."

Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the flames in the striped blue wallpapered living room to hear laughter and voices coming from the beyond the hallway. _Well, that's good,_ he thought. _Nice to hear that they're getting along._

He strode out of the living room into the hallway and made his way to the brightly lit kitchen. He had just opened his mouth to wish the teenagers a pleasant 'good afternoon' when he caught sight of them. Sitting opposite from each other at the kitchen table were a still very wet Harry and Emily, their towels trailing beneath them, absolutely stuffing their mouths with food in what appeared to be some kind of a race. Between them was a large pile of rapidly diminishing _fajitas?_ that they were grabbing from every two seconds. As they got to the final ones, food was flying everywhere and laughter could be heard in between the sounds of eating. Harry had just grabbed hold of the final fajita when Emily looked shocked and cried out. "Oh my god, Harry, look! Pineapple!!"

"What?" Harry said, his hand stopping. Emily, however, seized the opportunity to snatch the fajita out of Harry's hands and promptly stuff half of it in her own mouth. "Hey!!" Harry cried. "Oh, that's just low!!"

Emily, finishing it off in a couple of more bites just sat back in her chair, shook her wet hair at him and simply grinned. "I had a very rough day. My boyfriend was actually gay and cheating on me. I deserved to win." _Oh dear,_ Dumbledore mused sympathetically,_ the poor girl._

Harry glared at her before his gaze softened and he too sat back in his chair. "You alright?"

Emily looked gratefully at Harry, smiling slightly. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I still feel pretty...used, I guess."

"I can understand that." Harry sympathized with her. "If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty crummy when it comes to relationships myself."

"Really?" Emily looked interestedly at Harry. "You're a really nice guy, though."

"Not really." Harry said, blushing under her praise. "I've got a bad temper. And I sulk a lot."

Emily snorted. "Shut up." She said lazily. "Who's put up with me all summer, then? Some Harry Potter impersonator? I don't think so."

"You are quite right, Miss Gould," Dumbledore said, stepping forward. Emily gave a startled gasp and Harry looked distinctly annoyed.

"Hello, sir." He said, with an undertone of you-just-interrupted-a-private-moment-that-I-was-really-enjoying that Dumbledore did not fail to miss.

"Hi, Mr. Dumbledore." Emily said politely, having recovered from her surprise. "Sorry about all the mess."

"Not at all, my dear, I'm quite sorry for interrupting your conversation."

"No problemo." Emily smiled pleasantly at the old man. Harry, on the other hand, was feeling no such love for his headmaster. Dumbledore, however, seemed to be valiantly ignoring this fact and smiled benevolently at the two of them, his eyes twinkling madly.

"Well, I am glad to see the two of you enjoying yourselves, but Harry, I do believe it is time for us to be moving along."

Harry groaned inwardly before getting up to join Dumbledore. He hated the weekly trips to Grimmauld Place. Everyone there was so..._nice_, but in a smothering, stifling kind of way. They still barely told him a thing, with the exception of Dumbledore, and Harry had the strong feeling that he was still censoring what he said. Most of all, the dark, damp house reminded him of Sirius at every turn and corner. Looking helplessly around the kitchen, Harry desperately sought an excuse not to have to go.

"Uh, Professor, sir, if it can wait a bit...Em and I made a bit of a mess here." He stammered, trying to catch Emily's attention.

"Oh! Yes!" Emily picked up, much to Harry's relief. "In fact, it's actually Harry's day to cook and clean – I did all the work yesterday."

Much to Harry's annoyance, Dumbledore merely smiled at them. "An admirable plan to keep the peace, I must say, but perhaps the mess could wait until Harry returns? I shan't keep him long, my dear."

Harry's face fell and Emily's mirrored his emotions. Dumbledore looked concerned and pulled out his wand. "If it is such a problem, then, well, _Scourgify!_" Suddenly everything was back in its proper place and Harry was forced to concede defeat.

"Oh, uh, well, thank you, Professor." Harry said, his voice rather dull. Dumbledore told him that he was quite welcome and bade Emily goodbye before turning to Harry. Emily gave Harry a sympathetic face from behind Dumbledore as Harry too turned and walked out of the room. As he walked into the living room he could hear the sounds of Emily's music turning on upstairs and wished he were there with her, carrying on their usual banter instead of going to the very place he did not want to go. Living with Emily was turning out to be far better than Harry had ever expected, but he couldn't escape the awful feeling of being caged. He glumly walked into the fireplace, well aware that he would actually have chosen to live with Emily if he'd known her they way he now did. _But I didn't even get to choose_, he thought miserably. _For once, just for once, all I would like is to make my own choices._

A/N: You like? You no like? Will they ever actually get together or am I just playing with you all? Review and let me know!

-Laren


	6. I'm in your bed because

Disclaimer: I own none that you recognize. It's J.K.R's, so if you want it, go ask _her_.

A/N: sorry for the update delay, but a) my internet keeps on going down (stupid Belkin router) and b)I'm back at school, and right in the middle of midterms, so I'm incredibly busy. This is the first time in about 5 weeks I've had a chance to do anything other than schoolwork, and that's actually only because as I write this, I have no internet (AGAIN!!) and have done all the work that could be done without it. _Anyway_, that was my list of excuses for being such a bad updater, but here's your story!

On with the Story!

**Chapter 6: I'm in your bed because....?**

Harry crept silently up the stairs, tired and wanting nothing more than his bed. Yawning widely, he placed his hand on his doorknob and entered his room, shoving off his shoes as he stumbled towards his bed. They'd kept him at Grimmauld Place until three o'clock in the morning, claiming that seeing as it was his birthday (which Harry had entirely forgotten about), they had to give him a party then and there otherwise it would be too late. He had enjoyed himself; who wouldn't enjoy being given presents, cake, sweets and tonnes of other great birthday things? But he couldn't help thinking that Emily was all by herself, waiting for him to come home. Shaking off feelings of guilt, he collapsed onto his bed.

"What?" he mumbled. As he raised his head, a piece of paper came up with it. Slowly peeling it off of his face, he grabbed his glasses, turned a lamp on and quickly scanned it.

_Harry, I hope you had a good time at your party - Happy Birthday! Dumbledore told me earlier on that it was your birthday today, but I forgot in the rush of things to wish you a good day – I'm sorry! If it's not too late, I got some cupcakes at work today, so go wild, birthday boy, and eat up! I may even have a present for you (shh it's a secret)! Sorry I didn't get to see you, and Happy 16th Birthday!!!_

_Luv, Emily_

_p.s hey, it's your sweet sixteen! Except, no, you're not a girl, so I guess not...uh...never mind._

Harry smiled, then groaned as he thought of all the cake Mrs. Weasley had made him eat that evening, and the small tin of cupcakes that Emily had obviously gone out of her way to buy for him. _Thanks, Em!_ Harry smiled at her postscript – he could practically hear her voice through her words. Sighing, he got up and slipped quietly into her room. Tiptoeing across to her bed, he had just reached his hand out to the covers when he stepped on a loose floorboard. Suddenly a loud '_creeaak!'_ resounded throughout the room. Harry winced, hoping that he hadn't woken her up. Holding his breath, he peered closer, not trusting the floor to step any further.

"Harry?" Emily's tired face poked out from beneath her thick bedcovers, obviously rather confused as to why she was being woken up at three in the morning. Harry cringed and held up his hands apologetically.

"Sorry, Em. I just wanted to..." he paused, and Emily yawned as she sat up in bed. "No, no, go back to sleep, I'll go, sorry!"

Emily smiled sleepily at him. "No, once I'm up, I'm up. Mmmm." She yawned again, then looked at him more closely. "Are you still – dressed? Did you just get home?"

Harry stuck his hands into his pockets, blushing slightly. "Yeah," he admitted. "The party went late. I – uh – saw your note, Em. Thanks a bunch, by the way. And...um..." Harry blushed furiously. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he'd come into her room. Emily, however, smirked at him.

"Thanks for checking up on me, Harry." She said, pushing incredibly messy hair out of her face.

Harry stuttered, searching for something relevant to say. "Uh...welcome... your hair looks worse than mine!"

Even in the dark, Harry could see Emily's eyes narrow at him. "Could you - uh -repeat that for me? I'm still pretty sleepy."

_Danger! Danger! Danger!_ Harry shuffled his feet nervously. "You're right Em, you just woke up – which is _entirely_ my fault – here, do you want a hair-tie? I'll get one for you, just tell me where to go."

Emily leaned back against her pillow, laughing slightly. "Hey, thanks, but it's okay. You need to get to sleep yourself, seeing as you just got in. And so do I, for that matter – but tomorrow's my last class of the week!!"

Harry yawned, then grinned at her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going to bed, mum."

"_Shut up..._" Emily settled herself back into bed and pulled the covers up around her head. "Sleep tight, Harry."

"Night." Harry said, and turned around to leave. _Creak!_ Harry made a half face as he heard Emily's muffled giggle under the covers. Slipping quietly out of the door, he managed to find his way to his bed, stumbling several times in the process. His last thoughts were befuddled and murky as sleep overtook him, and all was quiet in the 'Potter-Gould Residence'.

Harry was so tired the next morning that he slept through Emily's alarm, but all was still silent as Emily quietly got ready and went to work. The house maintained its silent atmosphere even when Harry awoke, the silence undisturbed as he worked on his homework, Hermione's warnings ringing in his ears. In fact, the house retained its quiet, all encompassing silence until exactly nine minutes past two, at which time Emily whooshed back through the fireplace, dropping her bag on the living room floor and loudly proclaiming that she was _finished!!_

Upstairs in the attic, Harry grinned and shut his textbook – there was no way he'd get the rest of McGonagall's transfiguration essay done with Emily in her current joyous mood. He heard her banging about the house, calling his name and generally stirring things up a bit. Music had already begun to stream from the kitchen stereo when she finally climbed up the attic steps, smiling from ear to ear as she made her way towards Harry.

"Yes!! _Finished!!_" she exclaimed, stretching her arms out in triumph.

"Yeah, you already said that." Harry responded dryly. "Don't you have to go back to work on Monday, though?"

Emily dropped her arms and grin for a moment to glare forcefully in Harry's direction. "I count my blessings," she said, every word haloed. "And instead of dwelling on the unpleasant, I am grateful for what I have."

Harry rolled his eyes at her, and then stretched out lazily in the afternoon sunlight. Emily looked down at Harry curiously, noting the various books and parchment surrounding him for the first time. "What's that?" she asked.

"Oh, you know, homework." Harry shrugged. "A couple essays that I had to do for school."

Emily blinked. (A/N: make a wish! It's eleven-eleven!)

"Come again?"

"Homework."

"You know, I could have sworn that you said-" she shuddered "-_homework_, but that's just too awful...I'm probably just going deaf, that's all."

Harry sighed and picked up his half-completed transfiguration essay and shoved it into her hands. Emily took one look at it and squealed.

"Ewwww! _Homework_!! In the _summer_!! Get it away!!!"

Harry obligingly put the essay away, but no sooner had he done so that Emily grabbed his arm and began to drag him downstairs. "Em!" he yelled, his arm feeling as if she were about to wrench it from its socket. "Em, loosen up here! Are you trying to take my arm off?"

"I have to get you away from that abomination!" Emily huffed. "And I was looking at those drinks you have in the fridge – red dragon, firewhiskey, and some other stuff – now, I could be wrong, but at least one of those has alcohol, right?"

Harry flushed. Fred and George had all too kindly provided Harry with a sizeable stash of drinks with which, being locked up all on his own - _Oh, what they don't know_ – and nothing else to do, he was to get thoroughly pissed. They'd managed to hide it from Moody's ever-watching eye, and Harry had got it past Dumbledore when he came home.

"Yeah," Harry began. "Why?"

"I want to make margaritas." Emily said, loosening her death grip on Harry's arm as they went down the kitchen stairs. "Haven't had one in ages. And I'm just curious. Does butterbeer taste like butter, beer, or both? Come one, its Friday and we have nowhere to go – I say we get smashed."

"Fred and George would love you." Harry muttered, but Emily didn't hear him, as she was already pulling out some frozen looking cans as well as all the various drinks that the Weasley twins had supplied him with.

"Blender!" Emily directed Harry, who spun around for a few seconds before managing to remember where they kept it.

Several drinks and shots later, it was the world that was spinning as Harry attempted to get out of his chair.

"Hah." Emily attempted to smirk at him, but only managed to pucker her lips slightly. "You're drunk."

"Am not!" Harry retorted, while completely missing his chair as he sat back down and plunging to the floor. This only sent Emily off into a fit of giggles.

"Oh yeah?" she managed, almost falling out of her own chair as she looked under the table at Harry.

"I'm-I'm no-not...drunk..." Harry said, trying his best not to slur his words. "You are." He made one more half-hearted attempt to get up before collapsing to the ground again. "Help."

Emily giggled, but stumbled over to Harry and held out her hand to him. Halfway up, though, she lost her footing and went crashing down on top of Harry, the two landing in a pile of arms and legs. Harry groaned as he lifted his head to survey the carnage. Emily was completely sprawled on him, effectively pinning him to the ground.

"Em," he said. "Em, gerroff!"

Emily slowly lifted her own head, staring straight at Harry. "You know what?" she said, touching the tip of Harry's nose with her finger. "You're nice."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I am."

"Very nice," Emily said again, leaning closer to him. In the very back of Harry's mind something was screaming at him to move away quickly, but drunk Harry was finding Emily's position atop of him very comfortable.

"You're nice too." He told her, eliciting a giggle.

"You're nicer than Jared." Emily said, her eyes going slightly wet.

"Jared ish...a jerk." Harry confirmed, trying to nod decisively but instead succeeding in shaking Emily off of him as he rolled over, reversing their positions.

Emily, however, didn't seem to notice. "You're not a jerk." She said, as Harry bent his head to hers.

Harry shifted slightly as consciousness slowly returned to him. Trying his best to fall back asleep, he revelled in the warm, comfy feeling of his bed, and the soft, silky touch of Emily's hair across his _WHAT!!! _His eyes flew open and he would have shot upright in bed if it weren't for the fact that half of Emily's body was draped across his, his own arms holding her tightly to him.

_Oh bloody hell._ He thought. _Oh no oh no oh no oh NO!_

He looked wildly around the room; to his absolute horror, there were various items of clothing strewn absolutely everywhere; and – now panic really set in – there, on the chair by his desk, was a piece of material that could only be Emily's bra.

_Calm down, Potter_, he told himself, attempting to breathe normally. _It's not like you_ _haven't seen them already. _A flashback of that embarrassing day ran through his mind and he groaned aloud. _Oh, that did _not_ help..._To make matters much, much worse, Harry wasn't entirely sure whether or not he was wearing any underwear – and that could mean only one thing...

"DAMMIT!!" he yelled, forgetting that Emily was still fast asleep beside him. Luckily for him, though, Emily was a deep sleeper, and so woke up slowly to the horror of their situation. She, too, realized with a start that she was lying beside Harry, and he could see the panic set in as she looked fearfully around the messy, clothes-strewn room.

"Ha-harry?" she said, her voice quivering slightly. "I'm in your bed....we're in your bed...am I missing something?"

Harry stared at her, unable to think of an appropriate answer, as Emily was still wrapped up in his arms. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but was saved when Emily gave a great yell that caused him to jump away from her.

"NO!! Not again!!"

Harry was thoroughly confused. "Er – look, we've had some strange times, but I don't think that we've done...this...before."

Emily gave an exasperated sigh before looking down pointedly at her bare chest, which, since their departure from each other, she was now covering with the sheet. "You've already seen them once! Honestly, I'm beginning to think I should just go around topless – then I wouldn't have to worry all the time whether you'll get another look, cause you'll see them all day!"

Harry tilted his head to one side as he processed this new information. "Well, I dunno," he blushed furiously. "I mean, not that I'd mind all that much..." Emily swiped at him with her hand, accidentally letting go of the sheet in the process. Ducking, Harry went even redder, but continued, ignoring her annoyed sigh. "You see? I mean – no worries there...but – wait! Don't hit me! I just – it could get pretty chilly."

Emily huffed at him, but looked curiously at Harry, whose heart was pounding as he tried his best to keep his eyes on her face. "Really? I was joking, but – they're not bad?"

_Why me?_ Harry thought desperately. _Which cruel, sick, and twisted person is doing this to me? _

"Er, well, yeah, as far as...breasts go..." he managed to stammer. "It's not like I would really know..." Harry hastily backtracked at the sight of the impending scowl on Emily's face. "But as far as I do, I think they're...really nice."

Emily glowed at Harry for a few seconds, and he felt quite satisfied with himself until he chanced to glance around his room again, reminding him of what had actually happened. "Wait!"

Emily looked quizzically at him. "I'm not going anywhere..."

"We had sex!!" Harry blurted out.

Emily's mouth fell open. "We did?" she looked beneath the covers at herself, coming back up with a look of shock on her face. "WE DID!!"

"I know!!" Harry yelled back.

"We had sex!!"

"I know!!"

"Dammit!!"

"I know, _we had sex_!"

"No, no, not that."

"What?" Harry stopped his yelling to look strangely at Emily.

"I don't _remember_ it!!" Emily's face wore an expression of pure anguish. "Damn!! Here I've been for the past little while, feeling like, yeah, I want to get laid, and the one time I do – I don't remember it!!" She stopped her rant long enough to look closely at Harry. "Do you?"

Harry stared at Emily in shock for a few seconds before registering what she'd asked. "Oh – yeah – I mean – no, I don't. At least – I know I had a good dream last night...but...no..._maybe..._Well, it's all a little fuzzy."

Emily grabbed his hands and looked imploringly at him. "Harry," she began. "Do you remember anything? _Harry_ – Harry? Why won't you look at me? Harry!"

"The _sheet_, Em."

Emily looked down at her once again exposed chest and rolled her eyes. "I should just go topless." She muttered as she pulled it back up. "Okay, I'm decent. Well – at least – you can't see them."

Harry slowly turned back to her, making sure that he couldn't see too much skin. Upon seeing that he was on relatively safe ground, he shook his head at Emily. "Sorry, Em, but not really." He grinned at her as she huffed at him.

"What?" Emily looked highly offended. "It's all just a big joke to you, isn't it?" Harry frowned. Where was she going with this? Wasn't she okay with what happened? _He_ was the one having a panic attack. "You've already seen tons of me – and you at least remember something! And...and..., _oh my god._" Harry could see their situation finally sinking in as Emily stopped for a second, sheer horror written all over her face. "You're probably thinking 'oh man, I got laid last night' and whatever else goes along with that! But we had _sex_, Harry, and now, I feel like I'm...trash, essentially."

Emily's eyes were bright as she turned to get out of the bed, a speechless Harry left in her wake. "Close your eyes, Harry." She commanded, which Harry was too stunned to do anything but obey. He didn't dare open them as he heard her shuffling around the room, sniffles accompanying the sound of clothes being thrown on in a rush, until the door slammed so hard that his glasses fell off his bedside table.

_What just happened?_ Harry thought, utterly bewildered. One second Emily had been acting like it was no big deal, then, suddenly BAM! She's angry and upset. _Just when I thought I was finally starting to get girls._ Harry shook his head as he got out of bed and dressed. Striding out the door, he headed down to the kitchen to get breakfast. Emily was at the table, but refusing to look at him. Harry stood in front of her for a few minutes, deliberating whether or not to say anything, but decided against it and took some cereal into the tiny dining room. It wasn't until that he was seated at the small table, eating away that his mind fully registered the events of the night before.

_Hey,_ he said to himself, grinning slightly. _I got laid last night._

A/N: Gotta love Emily's mood swings, no? I can assure you that Harry hates them. (despite the fact that he has them _all_ the way through OoTP – it's so realistic, I love him in that book!!) Any takes on what's going to happen next? Or did you absolutely hate it? I really hope it's not the latter, but review and let me know anyway.

- Laren


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